


never a weakness

by ashinan smut (ashinan)



Series: Uliro Week [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 01:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan%20smut
Summary: The Blades would view Shiro as a weakness, but this -thiscannot be anything more than a gift, a trust freely given and accepted.





	never a weakness

**Author's Note:**

> It's Uliro week, blueberries!!! I'm so excited for all the quality content that is about to come out for this week and I couldn't help but join in. If you're interested in music for this fic, check out [Wild Horses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioxjCVvtFNk) by Bishop which definitely helped establish the atmosphere for this fic! I have quite a few fics for this wonderful week so here we go!

Lessons are a staple of the Blade way, a surefire path to instill loyalty and understanding in all members. Friendships are an uncertainty. Trust is given only to those that have taken the trials. Touch is forbidden. Everything done, every minute of the day and second of the night, is structured with rules and regulations to maintain the highest level of achievement. Mistakes can be made, but often come from outside forces and with contingency plans in place. It is never a weakness of a Blade member. It is never due to a rule not followed or a taboo broken. The Blades are honed. They are sharp and still and numb. They are without weakness.

For decades, Ulaz has lived by these rules. Even now, he breathes them, lives them, understands them completely. When he was chosen to delve into Zarkon’s forces to unearth dissent in the ranks, to draw more to the Blade way, he did not expect those limits to be tested. It had not been by Haggar and her magics nor by Zarkon and his greed; not even those under his command could shake him from the Blade’s path.

No, the edges of Ulaz’s structured world blurred the more he came to know Shiro. The more he talked and fought and spent time with him. The more he allowed Shiro to step over those carefully constructed lines, with touch and familiarity and a desperate need to be known. The Blades would view Shiro as a weakness.

This, the arch of Shiro’s spine, the parting of his lips,  _this_  cannot be weakness. This cannot be anything more than a gift, a trust freely given and accepted.

Drawing his fingers free from Shiro’s hole, he revels in the easy reaction, in the gasps and half-moans, in pleasure wrangled but not tamed. Shiro gives freely even here, fingers twisted tight in the bedspread, head thrown back as he pants. His desire cannot be controlled like Ulaz’s; it’s a particularly interesting human quirk, one that Ulaz takes advantage of in small ways. He dips his head to nose at Shiro’s throat, draws the wet pads of his fingers over the twitch of Shiro’s side. Another shiver, another bitten off stutter of pleasure. Ulaz smiles and indulges.

They’ve been moving toward completion for the last hour - though that’s not quite right. They’ve been flirting with the edges of decadence, discovering together the differences and limits of their compatibility since Ulaz returned to the Castle. Certain concepts Ulaz cannot quite grasp. Others, Shiro shies from. They’ve stumbled through kissing and touch, indulged in marking and scenting. This, however.

_This._

Ulaz nuzzles against a particularly sensitive spot along Shiro’s jaw, teeth gently grazing the skin. Shiro trembles, one hand snapping up to draw Ulaz’s mouth closer, to keep him in place. His voice rumbles against Ulaz’s tongue. His pulse sings, a frantic tone that has caused alarm in the past but that Shiro has affirmed is fine. Ulaz worries a mark into the skin, pleased when Shiro gasps his name.

Pulling back, Ulaz nudges their noses together in a calming kiss. Shiro’s movements remain slightly frantic, hips shifting restlessly against Ulaz’s, his mouth slack and pupils blown wide with desire. Ulaz seeks to gentle him with touch, extending his claws and sliding them against the trembling skin of Shiro’s waist, down and over his sharp hipbones, against the delicate junction of his thighs to where he’s wet and open. It has the opposite effect, Shiro arching beneath him and grinding up in a desperate bid for relief. Ulaz chides him, pinning him with hips and thigh.

Undeterred, Shiro slings his other arm around Ulaz’s neck and pushes up to kiss him. It’s different from how Galra traditionally kiss though no less arousing. Shiro’s confidence alone burns through Ulaz, even as he shivers and twitches in Ulaz’s hold. Sliding a hand beneath the exaggerated arch of Shiro’s spine, Ulaz tugs them close together and loses himself in the warmth of Shiro’s mouth.

It’s Shiro who breaks the connection with a whine, his eyes squeezing shut as his hips stutter, jerk almost uncontrollably. Ulaz forces him still. Shiro tosses his head to the side, mouth open, flush across the bridge of his nose and down the tense line of his throat. His thighs tremble against Ulaz’s hips.

“I - I  _need_ ,” Shiro moans, tongue swiping over kiss swollen lips. Ulaz follows the motion with his own fingers, rumbling when Shiro flicks his tongue against the pad of Ulaz’s thumb. The sensation sparks down his arm, into the low simmering pleasure Ulaz has diligently been keeping at bay. Shiro squeezes his thighs tight, rotating his hips, and Ulaz closes his eyes.

The quick indulgence in his own pleasure quickly undoes him. Shiro’s demands grow more elaborate, more devious. He arches his throat, showing off the markings Ulaz has painted lovingly into his skin. He presses back into Ulaz’s palm along his spine, driving Ulaz to tighten his hold and force friction that he has been withholding. Shiro whispers his name, breathes it like the missing piece of a song, and Ulaz kisses him to silence that benediction.

While Shiro’s pleasure is uncontrollable and unstoppable, Ulaz’s control over the situation is quickly deteriorating. He cannot deny Shiro what he desires; he cannot say no to something so easily given. When Shiro cups the edges of Ulaz’s jaw, deepens the kiss with the softest whimper and a shiver along his skin, Ulaz gives in. He indulges Shiro’s want and hikes Shiro’s thigh up higher, grinding down.

The resulting cry burns against Ulaz’s tongue. He does it again, kissing Shiro harder, muffling the surprised shout that Shiro can’t quite stem. They push and pull at each other, Shiro’s hips rocking frantically. His shivers increase, the scrape of his nipples against Ulaz’s chest a distraction, and Ulaz slows. Shiro slaps a hand against his chest, fingers curling, and Ulaz smiles into the kiss.

“ _Please_ ,” Shiro whispers, fingers twitching against Ulaz, hips shifting, thighs tightening. They’ve been moving toward completion and here, with Shiro beneath him and frantically unravelling, Ulaz falls. Shiro stares up at him, eyes wide, red mouth open, a simple plea between them.

Leaning down, Ulaz slots their bodies together, and slides in. The warmth, the trust, the overwhelming brilliance of being connected in such an intimate way is euphoric. The song that trembles from Shiro’s lips is divine.

 _This_  will never be a weakness.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come follow me on [tumblr](https://ashinan.tumblr.com) where I will be posting the Uliro fics first before putting them on AO3. ALSO ALSO please do follow [Uliro Week](https://uliroweek.tumblr.com/) for all your Uliro needs


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